After the Cure, Deirdre Gould [the beach read TXT] 📗

even guess anything, you and Frank will be the first to know. If the jeweler tells you anything, you let me know.”

Nella shook his hand with her good one. “Thank you Officer Kembrey, it’s such a relief to have help.”

He put one hand on her good shoulder. “We’ll find them Dr. Rider. It’s going to be all right.”

She smiled at him through her worry.

 

Forever in a Place Like This

Nella passed the cafeteria on the way to the infirmary to discuss Ann’s medical results. The clatter of warming pans reminded her of something Dr. Schneider had said. The bacteria would have to be revived in some sort of broth and was it jello? No, gelatin. Nella wondered if it would matter if it were jello. She wheeled around and headed into the cafeteria. A few shiny faced ladies were joking good naturedly as they lowered steaming pans into the cafeteria bar.

“Excuse me,” Nella said, smiling.

The nearest lady looked up. “Hi honey, we’re running a little late today, we’ll be open in just a few minutes.”

“Oh! You’re fine, I’m not trying to hurry you,” said Nella, “I actually came by to see if you had a record of what the prisoners have been ordering for their meals.”

The lady eyed her suspiciously. “You aren’t press are you?” she asked, “That’s not really information we give out.”

Nella stuck out her good hand. “I’m sorry, I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Dr. Rider, I was sent by the court to make sure the prisoners are healthy enough for trial.”

The lady shook her hand, “Ah, well that’s different. You want to make sure they are eating, right?”

“Yes, that’s right. Do you keep track of what they order and how much they send back?”

“Sure, but we’re about to get awfully busy. The staff lunch is about to start.”

“I can come back, say, an hour from now?”

“All right then, Doc. We’ll have the list for you. How far back do you want?”

Nella thought for a moment. It had taken a little over a month for the first Plague’s symptoms to begin. “Is six weeks ok? For Robert Pazzo and Ann Connelly and of course, Gerta Schneider from now on.” She thanked the lady and continued on to the infirmary. She tried not to wonder how Frank was doing, but in the hundred yards from the cafeteria to the infirmary she worried about him at least a half dozen times. She was distracted enough that she had forgotten why she had headed to the infirmary in the first place and spent several seconds trying to remember before anyone noticed her.

“Dr. Rider,” said a nurse pleasantly, his cool, crisp uniform almost an aura of order around him, “did you want me to check your dressing?”

Nella shook herself, “Oh, no thank you. I’m here to talk to the physician about Ann Connelly’s test results. Is he busy?”

The nurse’s polite smile stuttered. “I’ll grab him for you. But Mr. Grant let us know in no uncertain terms that he wanted to be present whenever Miss Connelly was discussed- especially if it was at your request.”

Nella sucked in a bitter breath. “Ah, I see. Well, I don’t want to make trouble, would you mind contacting both him and the physician? I will talk to them together at their convenience. In the mean time, I’m going to see my patient.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Rider.”

Nella shook her head and smiled. “Don’t be, it isn’t your fault. It’s perfectly all right.” She turned and walked down the hallway back toward the cell block. It wasn’t all right. You’d think after the world fell to pieces that the jurisdictional bullshit would go away too. I guess if we only have one small city left to fight over, we’re going to fight over every inch. Nella lightly rubbed her sore shoulder. It would be one thing if Mr. Grant wanted to be present to protect his client. All he wants to know is how soon I’ll pronounce her incompetent and he can get back to the golf course. Or whatever it is post-apocalyptic lawyers do in their spare time these days. Nella stifled a perverse laugh as soon as she thought it. She approached the heavy metal door into the cell block and peeked through the mesh filled window while the door opened, hoping to see Frank at the conference table. It was empty. She couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Where would they be meeting if not in the block? Was he already finished? Did he know where the samples were? She took a deep breath and headed for Ann’s cell. Frank was right. She did over-analyze everything.

Officer Wells met her at the cell door. “Hi Doc. Geez, what happened?”

Nella half panicked, not having prepared a story for her injury. No one else had cared enough to be curious, not even the infirmary staff. “Oh,” she said, far more calmly than she felt, “it was a stupid accident. I was trying to fix the tiller I borrowed from a neighbor. I got a rock stuck in the blade and I sliced my shoulder pulling it out.” She was shocked at the evenness of her own voice. Her brain remembered the actual injury in excruciating detail and sweat popped out on her forehead, but she kept her face cheerful. Wells winced. “Ouch Doc. You sure are accident prone. You have to be more careful.”

Nella chuckled although she didn’t feel like laughing it off. “You’re telling me. Pain killers are hard to come by these days. Anyway, how’s our Ann?”

“She seems much better now that we’ve taken her outside a few times. She had to be heavily sedated when she was sent for those tests, but she’s been pretty calm since then.”

“Good. The more consistent we can be, the better she’ll do I think.”

Wells squinted and Nella was alarmed to see that he was on the verge of tears. “She’s not going to get better is she Doc?”

Nella set down the briefcase and patted his arm. “I’m sorry Wells, she has some pretty bad permanent damage. I’m afraid the best we can hope for is more good days than bad. The more you let her walk around outside or talk with her, even about little things, the better she’ll do though. Pieces of her brain are missing, but it can rewire itself. I took her off the antibiotics the physician had her on. He thought they were helping, but they were actually making things worse. From now on, she should get better at things like walking and responding to people, even her speech should get better.”

Wells swiped at his eyes with a sleeve. “But she’s never going to get out of here is she? Or another place like here, even if the trial goes well.”

“She’s going to need to be in constant care for the rest of her life. She’s always going to have tics, like biting, and scratching. And when she gets emotional she’ll probably always try to do herself some kind of harm. Those things just aren’t in her control. She’s never going to be able to cook a meal or drive a car- or even remember much about what happened after the onset of the Plague.”

“That’s what Johnson thought. We’ve been talking. We’re both supposed to rotate out of here after the trial, that’s actually why we both agreed to this post. It meant we could do something else after. But I think- we think, it might be best if we stay with Ann wherever she ends up. She’s used to us and we understand her, most of the time. I mean, I know we’ll have to get medical training-”

“Actually, I think you and Johnson have as much training as anyone else these days. I’m afraid medical training consists mostly of first aid and cpr now. And I’m sure you already know that much. I think it’s an excellent idea. Ann couldn’t ask for a better set of caregivers. Of course, I can’t say for sure what the Judges’ ruling will be, but I’m fairly confident that Ann will not pass her competency hearing. The Judges will decide where she should go, but I’ll be able to make a recommendation. I’ll certainly suggest that you two stick with her, if you’re sure that’s what you want.”

Wells nodded. “We’re sure. Thanks Doc.”

Nella placed her briefcase beside the door with a smile. She began to pull the cell door open and turned back to Wells. “Brace yourself,” she said, “Mr. Grant is on his way with the physician to discuss Ann’s condition and treatment.”

Wells groaned and Nella walked into the cell.

 

A Funeral that hasn't Happened Yet

Nella had a small migraine by the time she headed back to the cafeteria. She suppressed a sigh as she was handed the small novel that made up the meal record for Dr. Pazzo and Ann. She walked back toward the prison’s reception area, giving Stan Kembrey a furtive glance on her way. Frank was not waiting for her, though more than two hours had passed since they’d split up. She couldn’t decide if it was a good sign or a bad sign. Not seeing him and Dr. Pazzo on the cell block had caused a dull drumbeat of worry to start in her head and it had only grown since then. She sat in the chair closest to the door and began flipping through the list of prisoner meals. She tried to concentrate on what she read, but between her headache and growing anxiety, she couldn’t decide what could be important and what was not.

At last she heard the quick, light clip of Frank’s shoes on the hallway floor. She heard him call a goodbye to Officer Kembrey. She snapped open her briefcase and slid the meal record in for later. She closed it and looked up as he collapsed into the hard seat next to her. He set his own case on the floor and leaned forward, his hands scrubbing his face. The reception area was empty except for the two of them and the florescent lights hummed cold and dismal above them like an echo of the aching space in Nella’s head. She put a soft hand on his bony knee.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He straightened up and put a warm hand over hers, squeezing gently. He tilted the back of his head against the wall and turned to look at her. He smiled. “Let’s go home.”

He stood up, pulling her up with him and they pushed through the heavy glass door, out of the gray, changeless world of the prison into the mild sun of early spring. The world smelled green, even the steaming parking lot. The sound of birds was almost overwhelming. Nella winced in anticipation of a spike of pain. But her headache seemed to evaporate instead. For an instant Frank was a dark shadow against the bright sky. A thin, elongated icon, a cave painting. Just a memory